


Drabble: Cry

by SinningPlumpPrincess



Series: Apex Legends Drabbles [13]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Dacryphilia, Drabble, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Making Out, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 15:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21358798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinningPlumpPrincess/pseuds/SinningPlumpPrincess
Summary: Self indulgent little drabble involving Elliott pinned to a wall and Bloodhound making him cry (but they're both really into it).
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Series: Apex Legends Drabbles [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1383298
Kudos: 58





	Drabble: Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Find more of my stuff on my tumblr @Sinningplumpprincess

It is far too hot, is Bloodhound’s first thought just as their teeth sink into a chapped bottom lip, drawing a whine from their partner. 

There are too many layers, is their second thought as hands paw at their hips, desperately trying to get at them through their gear. 

Elliott is a beautiful participant to their nightly wants. His back is against the door, curls a mess, goggles and holo tech thrown somewhere else. They weren’t paying attention, selfishly, more interested in getting him where they wanted him. Alone, at home, where it’s dark and no eyes can pry into the dorm. One of their hands had gotten grabby, zipping down the back of his jumpsuit to the swell of his hips, eagerly stroking their gloved hands along the tight muscle. 

They have to part from the kiss, eyes half lidded so they may see how Elliott’s face has darkened, even in the already dark room. Their eyes reflect and glow in the darkness like a predator’s might, a beast’s. Hungrily eyeing him up as they swipe their tongue over his parted lips just to hear him moan. Their hands, greedy and needy pull at his suit, and Elliott moves his arms down so they may slide it off until it hangs at his waist over the tactical belt that holds an ammo pouch. 

“Hound-” Elliott’s voice is low, drawn out and slurred with arousal. They shush him in turn, pulling off their gloves so they may fist a hand properly into his hair and draw him into an open mouthed kiss. His silver tongue and quick wit would be of no use in a situation like this, not when they have him trapped, not when no one could hear him but Bloodhound. 

Sinking sharp teeth into his bottom lip to draw pinpricks of blood, Elliott moans breathily to the sensation. Bloodhound’s lips quirk up in a bit of a predatory smirk. 

Such a masochist- but was it fair to think it was amusing when they got off on his pain just as much as he did? 

“Do you think it is funny to humiliate me in the arena?” They finally say, just a breathed whisper as they yank on his curls to expose his throat. Elliott’s breath hitches, lips parting like he wants to say something but he shuts them far too quick. He knew his place, and he knew that wasn’t an actual question. “You look beautiful when you win, sweet one. Yet, you drove your words into me like a blade upon the final blow. Tsk.” They yank at his hair, their other hand working on his belt and pulling it from its loop. Hearing the fabric shift and becoming loose, slipping down his body as they toss the belt to the side in his growing pile. 

“How is it that you worded it?” They murmur, voice dripping with a slinking tone as their hand presses flat to his abdomen. Sinking over his taut muscle and raking their nails down through the patch of hair below his navel. Sinking lower and lower to the curls as Elliott’s breath hitches and they can watch the flex of his Adam’s apple when he swallows anxiously. 

“It looks like ‘The Hunter the Gods have sent’,” They punctuate the phrasing with their sharp nails stroking down over the length of his cock. Feeling it twitch helplessly and drooling out pre-cum from the head, giving away his enjoyment as Elliott chokes on a sob. “Have been bested this time? So full of yourself, my love.” 

“I-I-I'm sorry-” Elliott’s voice is a beautiful sob, verging on a wail, trying to crane his neck to look down at them but they keep a firm, harsh grip on his hair. He is not allowed to look at them, he will obey and hold still. 

They hum, as if thinking his apology is amusing. Wrapping a hand around his cock and feeling a twinge of arousal in their own lower abdomen with the way he breathes out this shaky sigh like he might cry. 

“You will be.” They murmur again, soft as if they weren’t about to ruin him. “You will apologize to me-” When he opens his mouth to do just that, the hand around his cock squeezes near painful around the base. “But... Not with your words.”


End file.
